Page 33 of Stacked
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ANYA
On the Fourth of July, I woke at four thirty. It wasn’t even daylight yet, and this was the earliest I’d been up in a long time. Even Black Friday and Small Business Saturday at The Green Frog didn’t have me up that early.
But I’d barely slept. Instead, my mind turned all night , going through the final details of the float and all the little additions I’d made to it in the last week. Special forms for the models. Extra ribbons on the dresses. A skirt made of stars and stripes for the abstract model at the front of the float. A ruffled bonnet I found on Etsy for the Betsy Ross formation was affixed to the back of the platform. Letters cut out of Styrofoam for the signs on the longer sides of the flatbed. I even created patriotic bunting for the truck I rented from Eastside Ford, the one Morgan promised she’d drive through the parade and park at Friendship Park for the judging.
In other words, my burst of inspiration that night after seeing Robert’s float had translated into full-blown creativity.
I was proud of what Morgan, and I had done. Last year’s offering had been skillful and memorable, but this year, I exceeded my own limits. I put it all in there: tacking, pinning, painting, and sewing. During the last month, I’d woken four hours earlier than usual to get a jump on creating before heading to The Green Frog. After the workday, I skipped my usual trek to Anytime Fitness and returned home instead, working late on the float to take advantage of the longer daylight hours. Many days, Morgan joined me in working as long as she could. Every night, I went to sleep bone tired. I was sure she did too.
But I was nearly at the finish line. After today, once I won first place, The Green Frog would get some much-needed positive PR, and I’d give Gwen some welcome good news. Finally.
Thinking about all that, I showered, then changed into a pair of wide-leg jeans, crisp white sneakers, and a black V-neck tee. I tucked my wallet, phone, lip gloss, sunglasses, and sunscreen in my black crossbody belt bag, then smeared on some makeup and tied my hair into a French topknot. I wanted to be comfortable for what I knew would be a long day, but I also hoped I looked pulled together and as if I cared about my appearance, at least somewhat. After all, winning first place most assuredly meant I’d have my picture taken for the local paper, and the local news in Cincinnati might show up for the ceremony too. It just depended on what was going on in the region that day.
Positive thoughts, Anya. Positive thoughts.
Morgan was already at The Green Frog when I pulled into the employee parking lot around five forty-five. Her black SUV was idling, and Daft Punk was playing so loud I heard it through the door as I approached the driver’s side. She started when she saw me and turned off the engine before cracking open the door. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?”
I shook my head. “Thanks for coming.”
“What are friends for?”
“You’re a great one.” I hooked my thumb in the direction of the waiting trailer bed and our masterpiece, which was hidden by oversized plastic traps. The main pieces were waiting to be assembled and placed once we arrived at Friendship Park. “Are you ready for this?”
“As ready as we’ll ever be.”
Morgan got out of her car and shut the door. Like me, she wore jeans and sneakers, but unlike me, she had on a vintage scalloped tee that gave her an air of effortless cool. She was like that—always looking styled just so, without too much effort. I envied her. How many times had I wished I had that panache too? How many times had I tried on an outfit I found on Pinterest or Instagram only to find it looked like a potato sack on me, like someone who was playing dress-up in fashion that never fit? And how many times had that happened with makeup too?
But today wasn’t about my shortcomings. Today was about triumph. About pushing myself to my creative limits and coming up with a float design that was certain would make a positive impression on the judges.
Morgan and I crossed to the trailer bed, and she peeked under the plastic covering a final time. “I’m really excited for the judges to see this.”
I glanced up at the big green sign above the bookshop. “I wish Gwen could see it too.”
She clapped me on the shoulder. “She’s here, even if she can’t be totally part of it all.”
“I know.” I smiled at my friend. “And after today, things are going to be different for everything. For the store. For my life, all of it.”
“I hope so.”
I surveyed the trailer bed. “Let’s do this.”
Morgan agreed, then went back to her own SUV and moved it across the small lot until the hitch aligned with the trailer bed. Together, we positioned it and attached the float before I climbed into the passenger seat. Then she drove the short distance between the store and the park. It was only a few blocks, not even a mile, but I’d never seen my friend drive so carefully.
When we arrived, the park was already crowded. As Morgan navigated to the float staging area, we passed the high school marching band, a couple of local dance companies, three political candidates with their cadres of volunteers, a couple of classic cars, and some of the other float entries, all of which remained hidden from public view like ours. Morgan parked at the edge of the blacktop parking lot, several feet from the dais where the judges would give out the final awards.
“I wonder if the people from Eastside Ford are here.” I unzipped my bag and fished out my phone. Nothing. No texts. My shoulders slumped. We still had about ninety minutes before the parade began, but I had expected the car to be there, waiting for me. I looked up at Morgan. “They haven’t reached out.”
“They’re probably on their way.”
“I’ll send them another text.”
I unlocked my phone and tapped a quick message to Kyle Townsend, my main contact at the dealership. As I sent it, though, my stomach twisted with a twinge of concern.Is something going on that I don’t know about?
He’d been so responsive last year, having no problem providing me with a car for the parade in exchange for the advertising that came with being part of one of the larger offerings in the caravan. I even allowed the dealership to display two monstrous magnets with the business logo on the sides of the car during the event and made sure Eastside got a shout-out when I accepted my second-place trophy.
This year, Kyle seemed just as enthusiastic when I contacted him after Memorial Day, promising he had a truck ready in exchange for the same quid pro quo. “I’m so glad you called,” he said at the end of our conversation. “Being part of your float in the parade was an honor.”
